Port in the Storm
by CMW2
Summary: AU with canon allusions: During a trip to the Mall, Daria finds not only a shop with substance but a certain rocker with substance as well;Unrepentantly DT with appearances from Jane and Tom;Rated for language and lovemaking;2nd in my 2011 SSS Project


**Author's Note: Okay, new fandom and new pretty long oneshot, I'm ready! I love **_**Daria. **_**I loved it when it was first out (I was 7) and I love it now when LOGO decides to be generous and show marathon hours of it. I also love the idea of Daria and Trent getting together and I want to come up with my own (hopefully somewhat original) scenario in making it happen. There are allusions to many episodes within this shot but I don't think there are outright spoilers and yes…the rating is there for a reason. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

The only reason Daria Morgendorffer was in the Mall of the Millennium again was to escape her house.

Quinn and her Fashion Club lackeys had taken over since their parents were at yet another Marriage Betterment Seminar at the Ramada (how many could they go to before admitting that they were beyond help was anyone's guess) and she had been going stir crazy. It was either get out the house or get out the chainsaw. So, after walking about for an hour or two, she hit the bus for the long journey.

Going to Casa Lane was out due to the presence of one Tom Sloane, Jane's highbrow and overly familiar boyfriend. Daria had a sinking feeling that he was interested in her and since she actually understood the concept of loyal friendship (something that Queen Quinn wouldn't know if it bit her in her Wonder Bra), she was putting a bit of distance between her and Tom.

If she were honest, she would admit that he intrigued her. After all, he was one of the few people in Lawndale that didn't let their brains atrophy in suburbia but…no. Hell, no. Even if (or rather _**when**_, judging by all the fighting) he and Jane broke up, she still wouldn't go after him or let him go after her.

Why? Well, the answer was wrapped up in the other regular occupant of Casa Lane. Contrary to popular belief (sans Jane), her crush/obsession/maybe love on Trent Lane was far from dead. She had learned not to wear it so obviously (especially since a certain multimedia project) but it was there like the not quite healed hole in her navel. Getting tangled up with Tom or some other guy (Not that anyone was interested in her. Well, except for Upchuck but the sicko _**certainly**_ didn't count!) wouldn't be a good idea until it was all resolved. Yet, she was afraid to resolve it. Daria was afraid of rejection or worse, _**acceptance**_.

Trent had changed. He was still a slacker but a slacker with purpose. Mystik Spiral had been "discovered" during a gig at the Zen and they were touring all over the country in the summers. Somewhere in between hours on the road and play on indie underground stations, Trent had freely embraced a leadership role. He kept track of gigs, he made sure that all members of the band got to said gigs, and he kept track of the finances. Jane didn't hesitate to tell her that during his times in Lawndale, he had been taking classes at a community college in the hopes of eventually becoming an accountant at a record label. That way, it was only "half selling out".

Jane also didn't hesitate to tell her that Trent had been asking about her, especially after she finally turned 17, which made a hugely important question rise out of the grave of her heart.

Had "Oblivious" Trent been interested all this time and had just been waiting until she was legal? Her heart (and Jane) screamed a resounding **HELL, YES** but Daria was still hesitant. If that were the case, then wouldn't he have just told her that? After all, if the man could scream his inner angst into a microphone, couldn't he have just… damn it, why did Trent always _**do**_ this to her?

He took her from a calm, cynical observer to a conflicted, overly timid little girl or worse…_**Quinn!**_

Shuddering with disgust, she ducked into a nearby store and saw that it was full of books. There was also leather bound journals, fountain pens, and even old Mason jars full of feather quills. There was an area full of plush, mismatched chairs and couches, along with two desks shoved together to make a large work area. What was this beautiful place? Oh. A sign with letters burned into the wood was read _**Scholar's Port**_ and Daria found the name fitting. This store was a port in the storm from the consumer's brightness that made up the rest of this hulking Mall and far removed from the mayhem of the city…

Daria gasped with surprise as a middle aged man on a rolling ladder came out from a door marked private and gave her a bright smile.

"Hello, bonny lass. The name's Colin McCauley and this is my shop. Browse around and if you see anything you like, ring one of the bells on the shelves. I'll help ya out. You're welcome to sit and read or work as well. Closing time's 12 midnight."

Before Daria could even think of replying, the man was off and rolling, a rectangular box underneath his arm. She jumped as the heavy door slammed and a raspy chuckle sounded over the soft strains of Coltrane.

"Colin's cool but kind of creepy. He takes getting used to." a very familiar voice said from the work area and she felt her heart stop before taking off like a shot.

"Hey, Trent."

_**/**_

Trent Lane was used to the looks of shock when Lawndale people saw him again. After all, he was up before noon and actually wore clean, non torn clothes (all in black, of course). He had also taken a leaf out of Jesse's book and let his hair grow out. Instead of spiky, it was wavy like Summer's and already had a little bit of grey in it at the roots. Trent didn't care. He had earned the grey and since the Powers That Be said it made him look distinguished (whatever the fuck _**that**_ meant), he saw no reason to dye it. He still had his piercings and tats (after all, there were some things that just couldn't be changed) but the main difference (according to Janey) was in his eyes.

There was drive and fire and the dreaded responsibility. Although he was still narcoleptic, he didn't let his condition run his life anymore. It was hard as hell not to fall back into old slacker habits but the look of quickly veiled intrigue in this girl's… _**woman's**_ clear grey eyes made it worth it. Damn, she looked good. Hell, Daria always looked good but now, it was legal (and he was worthy) to think of her that way.

"Hey. You look different. Good different. You lost the jacket and the glasses." he observed.

She still had on the skirt and boots but instead of her trademark green jacket over her orange tank top, she had a black hip length hooded sweater, hugging the hot body he always knew she had…

"Had to. There was an Army Chic thing going on at Lawndale and Quinn actually stole it. I burned it to end its misery filled humiliation. As for the glasses, I got sick of them breaking all the time so I got smaller, sturdier ones. My mom says they make my eyes pop, whatever the hell _**that**_ means. You look good different, too. Clean and awake."

Trent laughed (and coughed) before replying, "Amazing, right? The guys in the Spiral like it, too but they said that if I got rid of the piercings and my ink, they'd call _**Sick, Sad World **_on me."

A tiny smile curved her lips and she sat down next to him, sending the familiar scent of myrrh into his nostrils like an old friend…

"What are you working on? Lyrics?" she inquired with a gesture to his laptop.

"No. I got an English paper due next week. Janey told you about the college thing, right?"

"She did. What's the paper about?"

"Shakespeare's _**The Tempest**_. I gotta write about examples of illusion v. reality. The shipwreck's the obvious one but I can't think of anything else."

"Luckily for you, O'Neill's making us read it right now. Maybe looking at it will refresh your memory."

What was even luckier for him was the view of her ass went she bent to get the book out of her bag. After sliding himself closer to the table to hide growing interest, he looked at her with an arched brow.

"O'Neill? I figured that pansy would have you guys reading _**Romeo and Juliet**_ or the Sonnets."

"After what happened with Britney and Kevin at the coffee shop, he figured that it would be safer to stay away from the romantic stuff."

"Or to keep _**you**_ away from a mic, Ms. Anti-Communist Riot Starter."

"You know about that?"

"Janey told me. Said it was one of the best nights of her life and that the story you came up with was pretty bad ass."

She blushed and looked away modestly.

"I just pulled it out of my ass. Normally, my writing's not that good."

"Bullshit. You're good at anything you set your mind to."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're Daria and if you want to do something, you do it right." he said without thinking, making his eyes widen.

_**/**_

So, not only was New Trent productive, he was genuinely sweet and had utter and complete faith in her to boot. Great. She couldn't help but watch his hands as he typed quickly. There was a home inked tattoo between his left thumb and index finger of a spiral (he was loyal to the end) and chipped clear polish on his blunt nails. There were also calluses on his fingertips from hours of guitar playing and hauling equipment.

An image of those calluses trailing up and down her bare back made a quiet squeak escape her and his eyes flick to her.

"Saw a spider." she lied smoothly.

"Mmm…protein." he deadpanned in a raspy (sexy) Homer tone.

"That's disgusting." she chuckled.

"That's road life when you're out of SPAM and ramen. Road kill's pretty good, too. Well, when it's fresh, that is. Here's your book back."

Daria shook her head to rid herself of the images and as if her stomach wanted to join in the conversation, it let out a triumphant, "Feed me or suffer the consequences" growl, setting Trent into loud, deep laughter with only a couple of coughs in the middle.

"Shut up. Quinn and her drones took over the house and I left before I could eat, okay?"

Trent nodded and packed up his stuff, shockingly extending a hand to her.

"I promised Janey that I'd meet her and that tool of a boyfriend of hers for lunch at Pizza King. You can feed the beast there."

_**Well, **_**one **_**beast**_, that ever-helpful voice in her head leered. _**You can totally feed the other, baby…**_

Daria mentally pimp-slapped the voice and accepted his hand with only two words.

"You're paying."

_**/**_

Jane Lane was infinitely surprised to see Trent lead Daria into the pizza parlor and she could tell that Tom was too but not in the happy way. Jane was a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them. She knew that Tom was interested in Daria and had no qualms about cheating to get with her at the slightest encouragement. Fortunately, Daria was of the true best friend sort and not encouraging it but actively running from it. In fact, this was the first time she was hanging out with them in weeks.

"Ah, the prodigal Daria returns." Tom greeted with a winning smile.

"Tom.", she greeted curtly before giving Jane a small, sheepish smile.

"Good to see you, _amiga. _I see you found Trent's hidey-hole in the Mall. New journal?"

"Yeah. I got hit with some inspiration for my novel and grabbed it and some eagle quills. I'm probably gonna use Quinn's nail polish for ink. I haven't horrified her in ages…" Daria replied as she picked up a menu.

Trent sat next to Daria and gave Tom a blistering glare before greeting, "Hey, Janey. Bob."

"It's _**Tom**_." Tom corrected as per usual.

"I know. I just don't care." Trent drawled with a cool smirk, making Jane wince.

Trent made no secret of his disdain for Tom. He was too preppy, too polished, and too arrogant for his tastes. Not to mention the (not so) secret flirting thing he kept doing with Daria. Whether he admitted it or not, Trent was super possessive of Daria, even when he was being an idiot and pushing her away. He was also possessive of the time he spent with Daria. The time with the phone call proved that. Not only did he wait until she left the room to talk to her, he refused to tell her what had been going on, leaving it to Daria to show her the piercing he had talked her into getting.

Trent had to know about Tom's interest (a blind man in LA could see it) and the idea of him trying to take his unofficial girl (and hurt his sister in the process) must be _**quite**_ irksome. And Trent being in the room with Daria, breathing the same air was a prime opportunity, an opportunity that Jane wasn't letting get away…

"You know what? Why don't you two order? Daria, may I speak to you in the parking lot?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope. Trent, let her out."

She may be called a yenta and yelled at by both parties for her trouble but Jane didn't care anymore.

These two idiots needed to be idiots together.

_**/**_

"Trent, I have the distinct feeling that you hate me.", he remarked in his practiced cheerful tone.

"And I have the distinct feeling that you're itching to cheat on or dump Janey to get with Daria. Here's some advice: **Don't**."

Tom Sloane tried and failed to keep the shock out of his expression and Trent looked at him with sharp, angry eyes.

"I'm a lot of things, Sloane but I'm not stupid and neither is Janey. Honestly, I'd be happy as hell to have you away from my sister but you need to leave Daria alone."

"Why? It's not like she's seeing anyone."

"Are you sure about that?" the slacker asked flatly.

Well, yes. Tom had quietly been keeping tabs on Daria and there weren't any men around her. They all seemed to flock to her idiot sister, except for that Upchuck creature but since he flirted with anything with breasts, Tom was sure that he wasn't a fact…oh.

"_**You're**_ with Daria?" he demanded loudly, unaware of the audience they were drawing.

"No. I want to be, though and unlike you, I actually have a shot in hell with her."

Tom bristled and asked, "And just what do you mean by that? You're nothing but a slacker in a small time, one hit wonder band. You can't keep up with her, no matter how many _**community college**_ classes you decide to take."

"For one thing, the Spiral's a small time, _**5**_ hit wonder band and for another thing, Daria's not looking at a guy's pedigree to get with. She's looking for someone who gets her, respects her and won't run off with the first piece of willing ass he sees."

"And that's you?"

"If she's open to it, yeah and since I decided to grow up, I'm thinking that she might be open to it. I don't know. I gotta grow a bigger set of balls and ask her out like I wanted to years ago."

"And why didn't you? Were you too busy sleeping?" Tom sneered, increasingly annoyed by Trent's matter of fact demeanor.

"That and she wasn't legal, yet. I'm a lot of things but I'm no pedophile or a smarmy, manipulative fucker who would do anything, including ruin a best friendship just to get what I want. You're loaded but piss poor morally, another point in my favor."

"Oh, like you're an alter boy? I know how musicians are…"

"I freely admit to doing some fucked up shit in the past but I'm not like that anymore. Like I said, I grew up, something you need to do before you can be with even a_** knockoff**_ of a woman like Daria. Brilliant, talented, beautiful…you wouldn't know what to do with someone like her. Hell, _**I**_ don't know what to do with someone like her or if someone like her would want _**me**_. You said it yourself. I'm a slacker with three quarters of a community college education and a small time, 5 hit wonder band. She deserves better."

"But I don't _**want**_ better." a small voice said from the doorway. "I want you."

Tom watched with horror as Daria walked straight to Lane and kissed him dead on the mouth. Before he could even blink, a fist sailed into his jaw and he hit the greasy floor with a bang, a fuming Jane towering above him.

"We're done. Fuck off and if you come near me or Daria again, I'll shove my glue gun up your ass."

_**/**_

"_I freely admit to doing some fucked up shit in the past but I'm not like that anymore. Like I said, I grew up, something you need to do before you can be with even a __**knockoff**__ of a woman like Daria. Brilliant, talented, beautiful…you wouldn't know what to do with someone like her. Hell, __**I**__ don't know what to do with someone like her or if someone like her would want __**me**__. You said it yourself. I'm a slacker with three quarters of a community college education and a small time, 5 hit wonder band. She deserves better."_

And not only did the floodgates open, they exploded.

She blurted out what her heart had been saying for years and marched over and kissed him like a teen movie heroine. Not only did she do that, he was matching her kiss for kiss, tongue for tongue, teeth for teeth. Daria half expected to wake up in her padded room, holding her pillow like always but as her knee collided painfully with the Formica tabletop, she got solid confirmation that was awake and it was happening. Trent was kissing her and damn, was he good at it!

Dimly, she registered Jane literally kicking Tom to the curb and dispersing the gawking crowd ("Move along, move along! Nothing to see here!") but she ignored that in favor of sucking on his tongue. He moaned and splayed two possessive hands on her back, pulling her even closer to his warm body, the scents of musk and guitar strings making her head spin pleasantly. Her thigh brushed against his groin and she knew that she was not the only fevered person in the equation. Wow.

"Hey, guys? I hate to break up this long needed moment…"

"Shut up, Janey." Trent muttered as he buried his face in her neck.

"…but you might want to take all this lovin' somewhere a little more private. It would suck to be banned from here."

Daria gave her a baleful look but nodded in half agreement. Privacy would be more conducive to this sort of behavior. Looking down, she met Trent's coal black gaze and he nodded. Handing her his keys and waving to Jane, he stood up and let her lead him to his car.

They had waited this long. They could wait just a little bit longer.

_**/**_

Trent thanked whatever god up there that he had taken the time to straighten out his room a little. At least the bed was made. Daria closed and locked the door firmly and then leaned against it, her eyes heavy and sharp as he stepped into her personal space. God, she was so tiny! Without her boots, she had stand on her tiptoes just to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's gonna hurt the first time."

"I know. I don't care. I said that I wanted you and I meant it. I still mean it."

She pulled off his black military jacket and that was all the permission he needed. Bringing a hand to the small of her back, he pulled her into a hard kiss, shivering as her hands disrobed him swiftly. He found the side zipper of her skirt and undid it, letting the pleated fabric drop to the floor with her sweater. They hit the bed with her on top and he watched hungrily as she stripped off her tank, revealing lush, firm breasts in a lacy black bra that matched her boy shorts. Trent sat up and watched as she traced each tattoo on his arm with soft fingertips.

"I've always wanted to do this."

He brushed her auburn hair out of her eyes and she pressed gentle kisses to the body art, causing a tender smile to soften his face. Slowly, he reversed their positions, putting her underneath him. Daria removed her glasses and he caressed her cheek with the back of his palm. Their lips met and soon, the only thing separating them was the lack of birth control. Trent quickly rectified that and with approving moans from the beautiful woman beneath him slid slowly inside her. A low pitched whine of pain left her as he slid through her barrier but the firm hands on his behind urged him to stay the course.

Their hips met and Trent opened his eyes, looking deep into her eyes, seeing pain, pleasure, curiosity, and awe warring within them. He pinned first one wrist, then the other to the pillow by her head and she wrapped her spread legs around his waist. It took every ounce of will he had not to move inside her. Daria was burning hot, silky soft, and very tight, like a vice grip. He wanted to feel her contract and give around him, to move deep and hard inside her, to feel her walls quiver with release but not until she was ready. He wanted it to be good for her, unforgettably good.

All thought left him as she slowly moved against him, experimentally thrusting up and around his throbbing cock. Following her lead, he rocked in and out, watching as the pain was overtaken by pleasure. Low moans and gasps guided him and soon, he was brushing against all the places he needed to inside her. His nails dug into her hips and he slowly increased the pace and depth of his movements until she was panting underneath him.

"_Trent…"_ she moaned. _"__**Harder**__, Trent…please harder...__**deeper**__…"_

"…_might hurt you…don't want to hurt you…"_ he protested even as he obeyed her.

"_I…I can...t-take…oh, __**god**__…it! Please, Trent…please…__**fuck**__ me, Trent…!"_

He'd fuck her. He'd fuck her for the rest of their lives if he had his way.

_**/**_

When he found the strength to roll off of her, she was still quivering and moaning from the hard orgasms he had given her. Her body had taken vengeance for her denial and did what it had been aching for, what _**she**_ had been aching for. It had felt so good that she felt like she was dying and her cries (well, wails) of his name reflected that. The noise he had made when he finally joined her in bliss reminded her of a lion or a dragon. She wasn't sure which but the noise had sent electricity up and down her spine. Trent disposed of the condom and pulled her against him, her on her back and him on his side.

Using her foot, Daria pulled the sheet over their cooling bodies and let him press soft kisses to the creamy flesh of her shoulder.

"Damn…" he sighed. "That was…damn…"

She snickered and quipped, "You're a man of many words."

"Shut up. I think you killed some brain cells."

"Better me than road kill and SPAM."

"Good one, Daria."


End file.
